April 20, 2010, will be a significant day in my life. It will mark the 50th anniversary of my ordination. Since January 1960 I have spent most of my days as a pastor.
In September of 1974 I began my time as pastor of the Blacksburg Baptist Church. My start as pastor was far from glamorous; in fact, it was rather embarrassing. On the Wednesday before my first Sunday while shopping at the Leggett’s store, I experienced a ruptured hemorrhoid. This meant I spent the next two days in the hospital. If that were not embarrassing enough, the church secretary told all who inquired that I arrived and the bottom fell out.
This leads to my first observation about being a pastor. The only way to survive and maintain your sanity is to laugh at yourself, and never take yourself or position too seriously. One of my early hospital visits in Blacksburg was to the church’s oldest member. I entered the room, and she told me what a great preacher I was. She continued that I had to be the best looking preacher the church had ever had. I accepted this praise thinking maybe my dignity was being restored. As I left the room she asked, “Dr. Allen, what color is your coat? I am legally blind now.” My coat was bright red; so was my face. Being a pastor is often funny.
The process of becoming a pastor is humorous when you think about it. One goes to college and seminary to have a simple carpenter for a boss. If one remembers who the boss is, nothing members need to have done for them is a problem. I was visiting a rather sophisticated lady after she had had surgery. She became nauseated and asked me to call the nurse, which I did. The nurse did not get there in time. I held the pan for her and wiped her head after she finished losing her lunch. She apologized profusely. I assured her that I was just sorry she was feeling so badly. Later when I was recovering from surgery, I became nauseated while her husband was visiting me. He returned the favor. Maybe God has a sense of humor as well. Now in my 70s and not being a regular full-time pastor, the most rewarding memories are not some speaking engagement or recognition I have received, but the memories of small acts of kindness others have done for me or me for them.
Early in my ministry, my speaking styles were varied. One Sunday I sounded like John Claypool; the next, like Dale Moody; and the next, like Norman Vincent Peale. Then it dawned on me that God had not called me to copy others, but he had a job for me to do that I could best do using my own understanding and experience. I stopped reading or using other peoples’ messages and began to lead and preach my way. That was one of the best decisions I every made. To this day, I do not remember a person asking me what the commentaries said or what the theologians thought, but hundreds have asked, “Pastor, what do your think?”
After about 10 years or so of being a pastor, it hit me that if I were on a fishing trip a hundred miles from a telephone and the church bus had a flat tire, some in the congregation would blame me. So if I was going to be blamed, I might just as well be blamed because I was driving the bus. Very soon I learned you had to take the passengers to a few places they wanted to go before they would agree to go with you to places you wanted to go. Another way of putting this is, sometimes it is wise to build a sidewalk where the paths are before building one where a sidewalk ought to be.
When we needed to expand our facilities, Tom Reynolds, who was my first professional ministerial staff person at Blacksburg Baptist, and I knew the priority was to remodel and to expand the worship space. There was overwhelming support in the congregation to build an educational building. We promoted worship space first because we knew we could control the quality of the worship, but not the quality of a Sunday school class. The church voted to enlarge the worship space 76 for and 72 against. It was not a pleasant time. We expanded the worship space, and the following year, with the denominational experts telling us it was impossible, we voted 401 to O to build the educational building.
Along the way I also learned I had to get over my fear of small beginnings and embrace them to accomplish anything as a pastor. An elderly man in the congregation who had no children often told me that when he died, he was going to leave the church a lot of money if I would agree that the church would only spend the interest. He died and left the church $2,000. Needless to say I was disappointed. I talked with a member about how to handle the funds. We set up the Blacksburg Baptist Endowment Fund with guidelines worthy of a million-dollar fund and a great slogan, “Remember the Future.” Others in the church remembered the future in their wills. Today that fund provides resources for ministerial scholarships and mission efforts. When we began a third worship service, a praise service, I preached to 15 people. Within a year the attendance was over 100. The India mission you have read much about in the Herald began with a church member and me going to India in 1981. In embracing these small beginnings, I saw some ministries begin that grew to reach countless people and continue to do so.
Somewhere along the way I either read or heard that there is usually a successful way to begin a new ministry or build a building. First you have to ask and get the congregation to accept and embrace God wants this done. Second, does God want us to do this? Third, do we want to do God’s will? Then the hard part is making the commitment to do what God wants us to do. You do not need to know what it’s going to cost or how you are going to pay for it until you have committed to do it. Many projects have failed or been downsized because folks tried to raise the money first.
Handling stupid blunders, misstatements and the like was always embarrassing. I certainly made more than most. Since it is impossible to cover anything up early on, I learned to be quick to apologize and to ask forgiveness. About 25 years ago Ann and I went on a Christian cruise. They had slot machines on board. When no one was in the room, I took a chance on the nickel machine. I hit the jackpot, $50 worth of nickels landed on the floor, bells went off, and people came in large numbers. As I flew home on Saturday, I knew this would get out. I started the sermon by telling what happened. We almost could not continue for the laughter. From this I received no criticism, but many church and townspeople teased me about my gambling problem.
Finally, Ann, my wife, and I are deeply thankful that the Emmanuel Baptist Church in Sandige, Va., set us apart to be a pastor and wife and has kept up with us through the years. We are thankful to the wonderful people of Wise Baptist Church who treated us like family members and started us in full time work expecting church members to be our extended family. We are thankful to the people of Cosby Memorial for our fours years with them. No one has had a finer group of believers to serve with than those who call themselves the Blacksburg Baptist Church. We are thankful the Lord called us to serve him and blessed our ministry and through that, blessed us.
Ray Allen is pastor emeritus of Blacksburg Baptist Church.